The Tomato Box Fairy
by Sora Moto
Summary: Italy's perspective on events prior to and during Saving the Lost. A GerIta side story. One-shot.


Ok so I kinda wanted to put this into the main story for Saving the Lost but I just can't get it in there without a whole lot of awkwardness so I'm doing a side story/prequel thing and just gonna post it separately. Enjoy this little fluffy GerIta story.

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Italy never forgot, never. The promise he had made with Holy Roman Empire was one he knew he had to keep. He had broken down into a sobbing pile of tears when France had brought word that Holy Rome was dead. For a week he wouldn't even eat pasta, he just laid in Holy Rome's old bed and cried until he fell asleep. Then he would wake and cry some more. He made a promise to himself that he would never let anyone else get so close to him for fear they would fill the place in his heart that was reserved for Holy Rome.

Years went by and wars were begun. It was during WWI that Italy first met Germany. He had hidden himself in a crate for tomatoes to avoid being captured. He knew it was silly but if he was found by the enemy they would usually take pity on him for being an idiot and either leave him alone or treat him a bit nicer than other prisoners. When he heard someone approaching his hiding place he tensed. When attention was drawn to the crate he was in he made some silly lame excuse about it being empty and that he was a 'tomato box fairy'. When the man, for it seemed to the Italian that it was just a single man out there, began to pry at the lid of the box Italy began wailing and panicking. The lid came off and he popped up from the box exclaiming his usual tirade for sympathy. He hadn't bothered to take in the man sprawled on the ground in front of him until he stood and lifted the smaller man by the collar out of the box. He knew this man, but before he could voice the thought the other spoke.

"Are you really related to the great Roman Empire?"

The Italian looks confused, he doesn't remember me. "Ve~, you know Grandpa Rome?" Maybe jogging his memory would work.

The look of confusion passes over the blonde man's face before being replaced with something between anger and fear. The next thing Italy knew he was being struck with the butt of the man's gun and was on the ground. The tears this time were not an act, he didn't remember him.

When Germany, he had at least introduced himself, took him prisoner he went along with it. There wasn't really anything else he could do though. In Germany's house he was kept in a cell, but it wasn't so bad. He was fed decent food and every now and then Germany would let him out to flirt with girls. He couldn't figure out why the German seemed so exacerbated whenever he would come back. Early in his incarceration he was paid a visit by Germany's brother. The white haired Prussian had come by and introduced himself. He even asked if Italy remembered him. Italy nodded and exclaimed that he did.

"Ve~ Prussia, I thought you only had one brother?" Seemingly innocent the question had deeper meaning for both and it took the Prussian aback that the Italian had noticed.

"I do." Was his response. "Bruder doesn't remember you. He can't. Don't mention who he was Italy. Not if you care for him like I think you always have."

"Ve~." Italy studied Prussia's face and nodded. "I won't. I don't want to loose him again."

The serious expression faded and was replaced by a large and friendly grin.

The Central Powers lost the war and Germany was forced to pay reparations to France for war damages. Italy wanted to help and went and asked Germany for a job. After a bit of arguing, mostly on Germany's part, Germany agreed and let the Italian have a job.

When he heard that Germany was declaring war on France once again he jumped to his aide and offered an alliance. Germany reluctantly accepted it. Really what did he have to loose. He didn't know that the reason that Italy offered the alliance was so that he could be by his side and keep him safe. He hadn't been able to all those years ago when he had been Holy Rome and Italy did not want to make the same mistake again. This time he would be right beside the man he loved fighting at his side.

They lost the war.

Italy had been forced to change sides near the end. His brother and his people had decided that without him when Mussolini was overthrown. He hated it and refused to fight, letting his brother represent them in the allies. The final tide was turned when the Americans dropped bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The Germans didn't last long without their other powerful ally and soon fell.

Italy was there when the announcement was made to let Prussia die. Italy almost cast off his act of stupidity to argue for the Prussian. It tore him up to see Germany break down into tears. His brother, the man that had raised him and taught him everything he knew, was being sentenced to death for the German's crimes. And it was all because he had raised him. He heard from some of the allies that this had been the second time Prussia had raised a megalomaniac nation and that it was the final straw. He wasn't even sure he had heard that though as Italy had broken away from his brother and was distracting him as best he could.

Italy heard the mumblings of the other nations about Holy Rome and did what he could to distract Germany from hearing the full reason for his brother's punishment. Italy watched the albino leave the room. Head held high despite the tears in his eyes. Italy knew the real reason the Prussian did not fight this decision. To do so would be to ask them to do the same to Germany. The older brother was letting himself perish so his brother could live. Italy truly cried when he saw that. They were the first tears he had honestly shed since he had heard the Holy Rome was dead. He tightened his grip on the shuddering blonde and did what he could to comfort him through his loss.

Silently the Italian sent up a prayer to whatever gods or beings ruled this world that somehow someone would save the man that had so selfless given his life over for his brother.

Decades later Italy had all but moved into Germany's house. One day in early September Germany was called to Canada for a meeting to discuss trade. Italy didn't really think anything of it until the German came back, a large smile on his face that Italy had not seen since, well thinking about it the German had never smiled so brightly since Italy had been reintroduced in WWI to him. He had come in and picked the Italian up, spun him around and planted a kiss right on his lips in excitement. He never told Italy why he had been so happy that day and it wasn't till the next week at the World Conference that Italy figured it out.

There he was. Prussia. He was being introduced to them as New Prussia by Canada. A region in southern Ontario, Canada. Italy almost cried from relief and happiness at seeing him. He had changed but he was alive.

Italy didn't mind when he heard eventually that Prussia had some of his memory. It seemed that he didn't fully forget who he was like Holy Rome had. Italy wondered why this was. He just smiled though, it didn't matter the why. All that mattered was the Germany had his brother back.

Aww, threw in a little fluff for you GerIta fans. See Italy's not a complete idiot. Please review.


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